The Doctor's Silence
by Caelistis.Rydraline
Summary: The Master can't keep his mind off the Doctor, and the silence the other Time Lord brings to his mind. Doctor/Master. Read and review, sil vous plait?


**Here's to watching reruns of Doctor Who! Having it on five days a week makes me way too happy…Ah well. **

Anyway, this is my first try at writing this kind of thing, so I hope you like it. After watching Utopia (again) and seeing/hearing the meeting between the doctor and the master with fresh eyes/ears, I had to try this out. Kind of ignoring the very end of the episode, though…and the one after it. This wasn't really something that I felt could fit in easily with that….

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"_Use my name."_

_The Doctor stared at his TARDIS, eyes wide. "Master," he breathed._

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Thumpthump thumpthump. The Doctor listened to his hearts beating, the only sound he could hear other than his steady breathing. He lay on the ground, the metal grillwork of the TARDIS floor pressing against the side of his face. Thumpthump thumpthump. The Master's face appeared before his closed eyes, and the Doctor felt both heartbeats speed up a little. The sound of drums, the beat stuck in the Master's head, so similar to the simple beating of a Time Lord's twin hearts.

The Doctor frowned, keeping his eyes closed and mentally scolding himself. This wasn't the time for letting his thoughts get muddled up; that was how he had gotten into this mess. _First things first,_ he thought, _quick inventory. _Head? It hurt a little, and he probably was going to have a diamond pattern on the right side for a while, but otherwise fine. Neck and shoulders: fine. Arms: one hand felt a bit scraped, and bruises were forming on the elbows. Legs: more bruises, nothing serious. Feet: a twisted ankle, maybe, but again, nothing to be worried about.

Satisfied he was all in one relatively unharmed piece, he turned his oh-so brilliant mind to what had happened. Where had he been going? Barcelona? No…that was something he had been saving for showing someone else…. Earth? _Probably, _he decided. Okay, new question: **When** had he been going? Twenty-first century? That was usually when he ended up. Still didn't explain how he had ended up on the floor.

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The Master stared down at the Time Lord lying at his feet. He was awake now, though he kept his eyes shut, his brow creased in thought. The Master allowed his eyes to drift slowly over the Doctor's body, enjoying the sight. That suit he always seemed to wear suited him perfectly- the always-open shirt collar that showed off the man's slender neck, the coat and pants that fitted his figure so well.

He had hardly noticed anything about the other Time Lord when he had seen him, the first time in a long while. He had been so euphoric at finally being himself again; filled with the energy from both his regeneration and the younger shape it had given him. But ever since then, the Doctor had been there, in his mind, teasing him with that beautiful body, and the silence around him.

He felt a flare of panic as the drumbeat grew louder in his ears, and he could barely suppress the urge to scream, to block it out. Always, **always**, that sound in his head, keeping him awake, driving him towards insanity. But he had stopped it for a while. The Doctor had silenced the incessant beat for the few minutes he had last seen him.

The Master placed a shaking hand on the Doctor's shoulder, needing to see those gentle brown eyes, to hear that voice again, and the silence it brought.

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He felt a gentle pressure on his shoulder, and the Doctor opened his eyes, turning his head to find himself face to face with the Master. If he hadn't been lying on the floor, his head would have snapped back, pulling him away from the very person his thoughts seemed constantly occupied by. _It's just everything happening so quickly,_ he told himself, trying to sound firm, and failing even in his own mind. _I'm just missing Rose, and finding another Time Lord so quickly after losing her, I'm just mixing up my feelings. Happens enough with my thoughts…my head's too full of…stuff…_

"Did you even pass your test for this?" the Master asked, his face moving back ever so slightly before he stood, extending his hand. The Doctor regarded him suspiciously before accepting it, climbing back to his feet.

"Well, not exactly. I mean, I did, but it wasn't- How did you get in here, anyway?" he asked, ceasing his rather complicated explanation.

The Master raised an eyebrow. "You crashed. It's not my fault you don't close your doors properly. Then again, if you **actually **fixed this thing, you might not have that problem. I mean, I know it's a TARDIS, but that's only going to go so far for a Police Box. Not to mention that it's terribly out of date."

"There's nothing wrong with Police Boxes! They're blue! And-" the Doctor broke off, turning from the Master and walking over to the TARDIS' console. The growing smile on the other Time Lord's face was making his pulse race, and his weak self-excuses didn't hold up against how incredibly attractive the Master was. "What are you doing here?" he asked, trying to keep his emotions from his voice, and only half hoping that he would soon be left alone.

"What, I can't visit the only other Time Lord?" the Master walked towards him, but the Doctor didn't turn. "As I recall, you were the one who was so keen to keep me around the last time we talked."

The Doctor was silent, not entirely sure what he wanted to say. "Besides, shouldn't everyone make a trip to the doctor at least occasionally?" At that, the Doctor turned. There was something different in the Master's voice that time.

"You need my help?" he asked, completely serious. The Master's smirk disappeared, his dark eyes staring into the Doctor's.

"You can make it go away," he whispered, and the Doctor saw a true fear in his eyes. "You can make the drums stop."

The Doctor looked down, shaking his head. "I can't," he said, "You know I can't."

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But he could. The drums were so quiet even now, barely an echo in his mind. The Master kept his eyes on the man in front of him, wanting him to look up again. "But you can. You are."

"I'm not. I'm sorry. I really am. I wish I could help you, but I **can't**." The Doctor truly sounded sorry, the ancient sadness that showed in his eyes now in his voice.

"You are," the Master said, stepping towards the Doctor, closing the space between them. "You keep them so quiet, my Doctor, with your eyes, and your voice-"

The Doctor looked up now, a small hope in his wide brown eyes.

"And I know how to make them stop," the Master continued. His hearts raced as he raised his hand to stroke the Doctor's cheek. _Oh, screw it,_ he thought, and leaned forwards, pressing his lips against the Doctor's. The Doctor started, but didn't move away, and when the Master pulled back, he could almost see the mental struggle going on in the other man's mind. He watched him for a moment, wondering if he should leave. He looked away, and almost immediately the Doctor's hand was on his cheek, turning his face back to meet the Doctor's again in a passionate kiss.

_Thank you, my Doctor, my dear Doctor. Keep me forever in this silence of yours._

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We-e-ell, I hope that was all right. I rather love the Doctor's light-hearted attitude, but it didn't really fit the story. I suppose listening to a playlist composed mainly of Torchwood songs doesn't help much, though….

**So… reviews, please? You can have a dalek cookie if you do. They're really awesome. And have…er…orange gel stuff for icing. Which is weird. But they're really good anyway. Aha.**

**Yours 'till death,**

**Caelistis Rydraline.**


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